A Fractured Bond
by April Snakehole
Summary: A series of conversations between Remus and Sirius.
1. A Return

Disclaimer: I own nothing; it's all J.K. Rowling's.

** The Return**

"I finally see the infamous Grimmauld Place. After all those years of hearing about it, I must say, Sirius, you weren't severe enough in your descriptions," Remus smirked. They were sitting at the dining table with mugs of tea. Everyone else was out, and Remus had dreaded and hoped for this time since he had figured out that Sirius was innocent: a conversation alone.

"Well, I suppose I saw it through rose colored glasses, being the setting for my idyllic childhood." Another awkward pause, another deep slug from their mugs of tea. "So… how have you been all these years?" Sirius asked. It was little awkward, but a thirteen year gap in friendship will do that.

"Oh, you know. Werewolf-y," Remus smiled gently, chuckling a bit in that way Sirius knew he used to chuckle when he was nervous before exams. Used to. When they were children. When they were friends. When they were the Marauders. "I'd ask you how you've been, but, you know…"

"Yeah. Not great."

Awkward silence. They used to be brothers.

"Harry," Sirius said slowly and Remus nodded.

"I know."

"He's—" Sirius closed his eyes and paused. "He's so—James."

"He's Lily, too," Remus said quietly.

"Yeah, you're right. Not enough of a bloody idiot to be James," Sirius smiled but his heart constricted. He hadn't ever _really_ talked about James or Lily, especially not with someone who really understood the loss. "And his eyes." Silence again. Both men lost in their thoughts, both men missing long lost memories.

"You know," Remus said abruptly, sitting up a little straighter in his chair, "I don't think I told you how I met Harry. Well, re-met Harry." A memory flashed in Sirius's mind: Christmas with baby Harry, he and James and Lily and Remus and… and someone else.

"You didn't," Sirius said.

"Well, you know, I was Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Went in on the train."

"Feel like mingling with the students like old Slughorn, then," Sirius asked, barking a laugh.

"No, no," he waved his hand at Sirius's questioning look. "Hogsmeade has laws against my kind Apparating in."

"My kind." Remus said it so easily, so calmly. He sounded more like he had when he was a boy, when he was telling James and Sirius why he was really gone from school so much. By the end of school, he wasn't proud, but he was comfortable, confident. He made jokes. But here was Remus, twenty years later. He was beaten down, worn, and ashamed. The years had not been kind to any of the Marauders, it seemed.

"And I was tired—it was just after a full moon that hadn't been…stellar. I fell asleep in a compartment, and when I woke up, there he was." Remus grimaced. He blinked back tears suddenly. "There he was, and there was a Dementor, eating away at him. And I swear… I woke up and I still thought I was asleep, because there in front of me was James Potter, thirteen and all knobby knees, and in grave danger. In danger and I could save him this time. And later, when I was really awake and the creature was gone, I just laughed at myself because I should have known. I should have known that he would be there when I woke up. Looking at me like a stranger but, still, there."

"Why'd you never visit him? Living with Lily's nasty sister all those years—"

"I was an unemployed half-breed. That woman hated _regular _wizards. She hated _Lily. _And anyway, years where I was at my leisure to take a vacation to Surrey were few. Years I didn't have half a foot in the grave were fewer." Remus looked up and Sirius saw that stupid twinkle in his eye. "Besides, I'd've probably given the kid fleas."

"Fleas were my specialty, thank you, Moony," Sirius laughed, scratching his head lightly.

Remus grinned and bowed his head towards his old friend. "Padfoot." Remus hit a hand against his forehead, "Harry had the _Map_, Sirius. The _Map_ found it's way to him, or vice versa. Prongs was probably pissing himself laughing somewhere."

They had more conversations to have. Important ones. But on that day, in that drafty, awful house, with nothing but the sound of Kreacher skulking about upstairs and the kettle whistling on the stove, the Marauders were back, if only for a moment.


	2. Old Wounds

Disclaimer: It's all Ms. Rowling's.

**Old Wounds**

"You thought it was me." A statement, not a question. Angry brown eyes met cautious hazel ones.

"Yes."

"How?"

Remus sighed. "_You _thought _I_ was the traitor. It was a time of panic—"

"I never did," Sirius growled. He ran his hands through his hair roughly. It was too long, but he didn't care.

Remus had known that this conversation was coming. The quick apologies in the Shrieking Shack had been necessary at the time, but Sirius had been sitting alone, thoughts festering, trapped in a house that held nothing but bad memories. But Remus he hadn't expected it now, in the middle of an Order meeting. Sirius's face had grown stormier and stormier throughout before he jumped to his feet, grabbed Remus by the arm, and pulled him out into the hallway, mumbling some excuse that Remus couldn't hear.

"You did, you thought I was the traitor, everyone did. And I—I was… I was left all alone. James… gone. Peter dead, by your hand. And you locked away. I didn't know they'd chosen Peter—everyone thought they'd choose you. I know—" he put his hand up to stop Sirius from yelling. "I know that's why they chose Peter. I know that now. But at the time… at the time I was… _broken_, Sirius." He laughed bitterly. "I thought I was miserable when I knew everyone thought I was the traitor. I knew _nothing_ of misery until that day. I was in no state to wonder if… if Peter had been the traitor. If he'd faked his own death. It was preposterous. And I was broken in two, and homeless, and unemployed, and friendless."

"But you knew me, Remus— how could you think I could hurt James and Lily? And Harry? My godson! _Merlin_, how could you?"

"You betrayed _me_, once," Remus said quietly.

Sirius' brow knit together. "What—"

"Snape. You almost made me kill Snape, Sirius, when I was transformed. My worst—_Merlin_—my worst nightmare at that point. You used me."

"I apologized for that years ago," Sirius said, still angry but losing steam.

"I know. But you're asking how I could think you might be the traitor, and that was always what I thought of, always how I convinced myself that you could." Remus shrugged. "You asked."

"It was a prank—"

"It was my life."

"I know," Sirius said faintly, shamefaced.

"How did you think it was _me_?"

"He was looking for…"

"Halfbreeds?"

"Desperate people," Sirius finished firmly. "My brother…"

"I know."

"He was desperate. And I could see… after Hogwarts, I could see that same look in your eyes that Regulus had sometimes. Trapped." Sirius sighed heavily.

Both men had deflated, their rage draining out of them and leaving them exhausted.

"As soon as I saw Peter's name on the Map, I knew. And I felt so relieved, Sirius. Furious, but relieved."

"I thought about you in Azkaban. Every full moon, I'd hope you were okay, and I'd hit my head against the wall over and over… 'How did I not see it was Peter? How could I think it was Remus?'" Sirius clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Because you were nothing but a friend to any of us, ever."

"Peter never made you angry either."

"Oh, you made me angry plenty, Moony." He flashed a roguish grin. "That was the problem. And Peter was never a friend. He was a parasite," Sirius spat.

"No, he was a friend Sirius. That's what makes it so terrible."


End file.
